When The Dust Clears
by Lasrevinu
Summary: PostGum Drops. GSR


Spoilers: _Bite Me _and _Gum Drops_

Rating: M

Summary: Post-Gum Drops fic.

A/N: Just taking a break from the noose around my neck to write this. I'll update my WIP soon. Just had to get this little ficlet in. **Read this only if there's nothing else to read.** A monkey with a typewriter could've written this.

And super props to Mystery for being so cool. She rocks. Rocks, I tell you!

When The Dust Clears

Avoid hazardous materials.

That's what her obstetrician said.

Sara stared down at the print powder and then scanned the square footage that would need to be dusted in the McBride's kitchen. The family of four was missing, most likely dead.

And there was a very live fetus currently nestled right beneath her gun holster.

"I think this print dust is getting to me. Would you mind finishing up the fridge?"

"Do I get a gold star?"

"Ha ha ha."

Greg didn't seem to think anything of it, just went about his business, completely unaware that Sara Sidle had exercised her maternal instinct for the first time since finding out about her pregnancy. She was just finishing up her tenth week. Her nausea had subsided and was replaced by a ravenous appetite, and Nick, Warrick, and Greg looked on as she devoured two and a half muffins in one sitting while they discussed the case on a picnic bench outdoors.

She'd have to remember to ask the Sheriff for his wife's recipe.

When Grissom called her and told her to fill in for him, she was flattered at first. "Keep an eye on the boys for me," he had told her. And the eager young CSI in her got excited. _He trusts me_, she had thought giddily to herself after hanging up the phone. But all elation was soon crushed by the reality that he was sending her away. They had been in an odd relationship limbo for six months. Ever since Nick got rescued, the entire CSI team seemed to be taking caution to the wind: Warrick got married, Catherine bought a new house, and Grissom kissed Sara.

And she kissed him back.

There were never any discussions about what was going on between them, and so there were no rules. There was a routine, however, and Sara had been completely content with it until they had investigated the death of a woman in an unhappy marriage. The husband and wife slept in separate bedrooms, led separate lives, had separate affairs. Just when Sara was thanking her lucky stars that what she had with Grissom was not nearly so warped, he waltzed into the room with his flashlight, shined it in her eyes, and then spoke of suffocation.

Though, according to their routine, it had been his night to come over to her apartment, she didn't expect him to show up. She had clocked out without saying goodbye. Sara bundled into an old pair of pink flannel pajamas and crawled into bed barely a moment after entering her apartment. She was drained from the case and the day, falling asleep almost immediately, only to be awoken by a soft shove from behind and a quiet, "Move over."

Sara jumped and turned to look up and saw Grissom stripped down to his boxers and a T-shirt, climbing into bed beside her.

"Nice pajamas," he muttered before wrapping an arm around her, effectively spooning her body up against his.

It had been nice, but it didn't assuage Sara at all. Ever since the word 'suffocation' entered the situation, she became guarded. Nothing was to be assumed.

When they finished up the cult case, it was her turn to go to him.

She went to the doctor instead.

Her gynecologist smiled gently at her and broke the news. A stunned Sara found herself with her shirt pulled half up, her midsection smeared with a clear jelly, staring at a black and white video screen of what looked like a dimly lit peanut.

And it was then her phone began to vibrate.

"Are you on your way?" Grissom had asked impatiently, and then, as if he remembered his manners, he corrected himself. "How are you doing?"

Sara stuttered as the doctor wiped the gel off of her belly. "I-I…I'm fine. Fine. I got held up."

"Are you coming then?"

"Um…sure."

She drove to his townhouse with every intention of telling him. She practiced the speech in her head, reminding herself to breathe. Ten weeks. She had been pregnant for over two months and had no idea. Sara was ashamed she could let herself lose track of something so…big. But her mind had been on Grissom ever since he kissed her. It happened the night Nick returned to work and they were all celebrating being together again. Sara had only a half of a beer but Grissom still insisted on driving her home. He stayed for coffee, asked her if she had finished reading the textbook he gave her for Christmas – she did – and they fell asleep on her couch. When she opened her eyes six hours later, she found herself cramped in the corner of the sofa, her shirt slightly raised, her naked back sweaty against the leather.

His eyes were already open.

Grissom leaned in and kissed her. He didn't close his eyes, and she felt compelled to leave her own open. His mustache tickled at first, but she increased the pressure, breaking the kiss only to remove her shirt. They consummated their relationship on her couch in a quick, frantic coupling, staining the leather cushions enough to make her flip them over in embarrassment the moment he left. Grissom didn't kiss her goodbye and Sara had been sure that was the end of it.

A week later he knocked at her door. She was surprised, but nonetheless invited him in. He looked uncomfortable. As she attempted to smile at him and offer to brew up a pot of fresh coffee, he kissed her once more, backing her up against her kitchen wall so he had something to brace her against while he ran his hands along the slim length of her. For their second time together, they managed to get to the bedroom. It was just as frenzied as before, but this time he didn't leave right away.

Grissom had run his fingers through her hair for several minutes before awkwardly starting to get dressed.

"Where are my pants?"

"I think…still in the kitchen," she answered, and then got up out of bed to walk naked to get them. She had done it partly because she felt it silly to get redressed in her own home and partly because she had a feeling it would unnerve him.

She took her sweet time and returned eventually with his pants. He snatched them from her grasp and tugged them on quickly. Sara scratched her elbow and gave him a lazy smile, one that he returned with a scowl. "Aren't you going to put something on?"

Sara slipped on a robe and didn't bother to belt it, knowing it would do nothing to appease him.

"I had better go."

Grissom turned to walk out of her bedroom and then turned back, gave her a hard kiss, and left.

He invited her over to his place the following week and the once hungry predator became a leisurely predator, stalking her slowly onto his large bed and taking his time. They continued that way, alternating from one another's places, from frantic sex to slow lovemaking, week by week.

She met him at his house after her appointment, skittish from the news and apprehensive about his reaction.

Once inside he took her jacket from her shoulders and began kissing her neck. She cleared her throat. "We need to talk."

"After," he told her, moving from her neck to her lips. "It's been two weeks."

It was hard to argue with someone whose tongue was doing such nice things.

Grissom fell asleep before they could talk, and though Sara knew she should have waited for him to wake, fear had her out of his townhouse mere minutes after he nodded off. She told herself she'd tell him the next time they were together, but was spared by the McBride case and the travel it necessitated. They would miss their day together.

Warrick and Greg had returned to Vegas once Cassie McBride was rescued. Warrick didn't want to spend any time apart from his new wife and Greg said he had "a thing" about staying in motels that looked like they hadn't passed a health inspection since Watergate. Sara could empathize, but was far too tired to care at the moment. She lay down, fully clothed, on the motel bedspread. Nick had checked in to the room next door but she knew he wouldn't be leaving the hospital or that little girl any time soon.

Sara sighed and placed a palm on her abdomen.

She wouldn't be leaving her baby anytime soon, either. For thirty more weeks it would live inside her. Soon it would come out and depend on her even more, and look to her to feed it and dress it and love it.

And for the first time since finding out that she was pregnant, Sara looked to the future. She honestly had no idea if Grissom would choose to be in it, but at that very moment, she did. She would love – she _did _love.

With love came hurt, came the possibility of losing so big you were left with a crater-sized hole in your heart. But with love…came love.

And it was worth it.

There was a knock on her door and Sara sat up immediately, collecting herself for a moment before getting up and walking to the door. She was surprised Nick had set foot outside of Cassie McBride's hospital room. But if he needed a friend, she'd be there for him. He deserved it.

She reached for the doorknob. "Hey, I thought you were going to stay at the hos…"

Grissom raised his eyebrows.

Sara pressed her lips together. "I thought you were Nick. He's been having a tough time with this case."

Grissom swaggered into her motel room. "So I hear."

She furrowed her brows. "From who?"

"Warrick. He got back a couple of hours ago and stopped by the lab on his way home. He told me Nick was particularly…invested in this case," Grissom explained. "And he also told me you were staying the night at some motel."

"I'm tired. I didn't think I could drive home."

"You could've driven with Warrick and Greg."

Sara shrugged and looked at the floor. "I guess I figured Nick shouldn't be alone," she lied. Though she cared for her friend deeply, her true motivation for staying in the small town was because its population was devoid of middle-aged entomologists.

Grissom sighed, accepting her explanation. He took off his jacket and draped it on a nearby chair. He began to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt while he looked up at her. "Did you eat? Are you hungry?"

Her mind raced. Eating could take up a good chunk of their time, making it less likely they'd be able to delve into the whole pregnancy issue. "I could eat."

He ordered a large pizza while Sara sat on the bed, staring at a muted television. She felt the bed shift and realized he was taking a seat next to her. "Hey," he said softly, getting her attention enough so he could give her a kiss. "I missed you."

She gave him a small smile. "How was the body farm?"

Grissom gave her a detailed account of his lesson, making her laugh. The pizza came and they dug in, eating right over the box.

"Wow," he said, watching her as she wiped her greasy mouth with a napkin.

"What?"

"You're on your fourth slice."

Sara's eyes widened. "I'm…hungry."

Grissom laughed. "Yeah, I caught that."

She had been around him long enough to know the telltale droop of his eyelids when he was tired. He'd be out like a light in a few minutes; Sara bought herself another day to tell him about the baby.

She got up to change for bed and Grissom began to do the same but cursed when he realized he had forgotten his bag in the car. "I'll be back in a minute."

She just nodded and continued getting ready for bed, slipping on a T-shirt. She reached for her bag to get the matching shorts when a pair of voices in conversation stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Grissom! What are you doing here?" Nick did not sound at all unhappy to see his mentor. "We wrapped up the case already, man."

The paper-thin sheetrock did nothing to diminish the clarity of the sounds coming from the parking lot, and Sara felt the bile rise in her throat as her heart began to beat loudly in her chest. She waited for him to lie, to make an excuse for being hours away from Las Vegas on a case that had already been solved.

"Yeah, I heard. I also heard you had a tough time with it."

"I'll be okay." Nick seemed to take a moment before he repeated himself, as if he were trying to convince more than just Grissom. "I'll be okay."

"Okay."

"Hey, man, you wanna stay in my room. I've got two beds here."

Sara felt her stomach sink. Though Nick was still in the dark about their relationship, Grissom wouldn't be staying with her through the night. It was odd how him being one room away seemed somehow worse than when they were miles apart.

"No thanks, I'm staying with Sara. Goodnight, Nick," Grissom said genially.

Her jaw was on the floor. She was sure she had heard wrong. There must've been wax in her ears. She was hallucinating. She was getting Punk'd.

Grissom strode back in the room and proceeded to get undressed, acting as if nothing had happened, as if their co-worker did not now know that they were sleeping together.

He pulled his toiletry kit out of his bag and searched through it. "Shit. Hon, did you bring any toothpaste?"

"Uh…I, uh, I bought some at a drugstore," she said, pointing to a plastic bag on the nightstand.

"Thanks," he said, and went to brush his teeth. She followed him into the bathroom, trying to figure out how to address whatever it was that had just transpired, but found herself only able to brush her teeth quietly and marvel at the mess that was her life.

Grissom spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, wiping it off with a tissue. Sara was still slowly brushing her teeth, not ready for confrontation as of yet. He kissed the side of her head, wrapping his arm around her and inhaling her scent. "God, you smell good." He kissed her again and then left the bathroom.

She followed him out several minutes later. He was already in bed, watching the World Series recap on the news. When she sat down on the edge, he shut the television off and turned to his right to help her into bed. She said nothing, only stared at the ceiling.

"I should've asked you first instead of being so careless in front of Nick."

"Yes, you should have."

Grissom rolled onto his side, propping his head up with an arm. "I guess…I just didn't care anymore. So we're together. It's not illegal. There are no rules against it."

She had no doubt he had checked.

Sara turned to look at him. "What do you mean by together? What is that?"

He looked confused by the question. "Together. We're together."

She shook her head. "When I'm standing in an elevator, I'm together with a bunch of people. What are _we_? What am _I_? What am _I_ to _you_?"

"You're my…you're my….love?"

"Your love?"

For the first time that night, Grissom seemed flustered. "I…I love you, Sara."

"But what are we?"

His eyes widened. "I just told you I loved you."

"When did you figure that out? Because I have a feeling it was before we got _together_."

"What do you want me to say?"

She lay back on her pillow and looked up at the ceiling once more. "I don't know."

He wrapped his arm around her for a short hug, letting his hand unknowingly come to rest on her belly. "What do you think we are?"

She sighed. "I don't know."

Out of the corner of her eye, Sara could see that Grissom was worried. He bit his bottom lip. "Do you love me, Sara?"

Surprised by the question, she turned her head to face him. "Or course I do."

They were quiet for several minutes and she wondered if that was the end of their conversation. She could see he wasn't tired any longer. His eyes were sharp and they were focused on her. He leaned in and pressed his lips to the apple of her cheek, letting them linger there. Eventually, he made his way down to her ear while his hand moved up her body. "Is it alright if we…?"

She nodded her head and he undressed her quickly. Sara watched him pull off his T-shirt and boxers before moving to reach over her towards the nightstand. "Shit. I forgot we're in a motel."

Grissom got up out of bed and began to dig around his overnight bag. She wanted to tell him the damage had been done -- the condom wasn't necessary -- but knew it would lead to more talking. He crawled on top of her and began to kiss her face. Sara was beginning to figure out his pattern: he would pick a cheek and work his way down her jaw to the tender skin of her neck. Once there, his tongue would test the texture, tickling her just a bit, before he'd move back to her jaw and work his way up the other side. Three kisses on her lips -- he'd kiss her three times, starting off with a small peck to test the waters. The next kiss was always deep. It should've been boring, the predictability of his actions, but as Sara waited for that second kiss, she could feel herself grow wet. She squirmed, hungry for that contact, and opened her eyes when the wait became unbearable.

He was watching her.

She got nervous. Her stomach wasn't showing any signs of pregnancy, but she was distinctly rounder all over. Perhaps he had noticed…

"I love you, Sara."

Shocked out of her reverie, she stared up at him in confusion. Grissom's eyes were scanning her face and for a moment he reminded her of a child, needy for assurance. He wanted her to say it back to him. She held so much power in that very moment. Grissom had told her he loved her twice that night and though she implied that she loved him, Sara hadn't yet said the words. She pursed her lips.

"I love you, too."

Something flashed in his eyes and within a moment, he was reaching for her leg and pulling it over his waist so he could easily sink inside her. "Sara, Sara, Sara…" he groaned.

She used her free leg as leverage to push up towards him. "Oh, God," she breathed loudly before clapping a hand over her mouth.

Grissom slowed his pace to a near stop. "What? What? Did I hurt you?"

"Nick," she whispered harshly, "is _next door_."

He looked up at the wall in front of him. "Uh…"

Sara squinted her eyes, fixating them on his outstretched neck. She raised her head and licked along the line where his beard met skin. He hissed and she took advantage of his momentary lapse of concentration, flipping them over so that she was on top.

"Shh…" she said, placing a finger against his lips. "The bed creaks." With that, she began to move, slithering like a snake on top of him, her movements anything but jerky.

Sara clamped a hand over her mouth as she came, doing the same for him when he opened his mouth to groan his climax. "That was good," she said, smiling at him before pecking him softly on the lips. She eased off of his body, taking the condom with her to toss in the wastebasket.

Grissom looked shell-shocked, but still managed to make room for her as she climbed back in bed. He turned towards her and tucked a sweaty lock of hair behind her ear. "What are you thinking?"

_You have no idea how much your world is going to change,_ Sara thought to herself as she looked at his content face. She gave him a small, half smile. "I was wondering how often a thirty-eight dollar a night motel changes the sheets."

He cringed, wrinkling his nose. "We certainly left our mark."

She laughed and swatted his arm playfully. "Go to sleep."

He shifted, getting comfortable in the foreign bed. Grissom's arm found his way around her while one leg eased between her two. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she yawned.

There was a moment of silence before he cleared his throat and added, "I love you."

Three times in one night. Impressive.

"I love you, too."

The alarm on Sara's phone had them up at ten. "Checkout's at eleven," she explained, rubbing her tired eyes. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

She trudged to the bathroom, tired and sore. The hot water went a long way towards waking her up, and soon she was scrubbing all of the motel germs off of her body and coming up with a plan to break the news to Grissom. For the first time since finding out about her pregnancy, Sara felt guilty for keeping it a secret. She could keep a secret from the man she was 'suffocating,' but not from the one who drove two hundred miles to tell her he loved her.

Three times.

The shower curtain was pulled back suddenly and Sara yelped.

"Didn't mean to scare you," Grissom said, smiling sheepishly as he got in to the tub with her.

She placed a hand over her heart and felt it beat rapidly. "You'd think this was the Bates' Motel."

"Poor baby," he said sympathetically, placing a kiss on her shoulder. "Now stop hogging all of the water."

Sara rinsed off quickly and got out of the shower to dry off and get dressed. The dynamic of their relationship had shifted but she worried that it hadn't shifted enough for him to happily accommodate a baby. He seemed to be easing into the idea of actively loving her, something that had taken many years. Too many years. Grissom was practically a human glacier, capable of making huge changes to a climate if one were patient enough to wait for it. Sara had been patient for years when it came to their relationship. It had paid off, but she wondered if he would be so slow when it came to learning to love his child.

It hurt to doubt him like that. He was a good man, a wonderful man. His capacity to love was vast, but so difficult to access. Sara felt a headache coming on. When it came to Grissom, overthinking was unavoidable.

"Hey, babe, you want to get going?"

"Yeah. Yeah," she repeated, picking up her bag.

"Did you pay for the room already?"

She nodded her head.

He smiled at her. "Let's get going."

"Sure. I'll drive," she said, slipping her hand into his pocket and getting his keys.

They walked out into the bright sun and found Nick frantically putting his bags into the trunk of his car.

Grissom tilted his head to the side. "Hey, Nick."

The younger man froze. Sara could see his face was beginning to turn red. "Hey, guys. I'm just going to get going."

"Okay. I'm going to ride with Grissom," she informed him, and his eyes widened.

Sara cringed at her misuse of words while Nick scuttled into his truck. "Bye, guys," he murmured, and drove off.

"Well, he heard us," Sara said, watching Nick disappear into the distance.

"He'll get over it," Grissom sighed, climbing into the passenger's seat.

She said nothing as they pulled out of the parking lot. He seemed relaxed, content. "You've got tonight off, right?"

Sara raised her brows. "I technically was supposed to have last night off as well. Plans change. Why? Do you need my help with a case?"

"No," he said fervently. "Not work. I wanted to do something tonight."

"Do what?"

"I didn't have anything particular in mind," he shrugged. "Just…something. We've never gone anywhere."

"You want to take me out," Sara said, finally catching on.

"Yeah."

"And then what happens next?"

"Excuse me?"

She made a turn and got onto the highway. "We go out tonight somewhere -- eat dinner, see a movie, whatever -- and then what?"

"Do I have to draw you a picture?" he asked, confused.

"No picture. Tell me what happens next."

He shifted in his seat like a criminal under interrogation. "We go to my place -- or your place -- and…if you're in the mood…we can make love. If you want to."

"Okay, we see a movie, eat dinner, you take me home and rock my world…then what? Do I not see you again for a week?"

"No," he exclaimed. "I…I don't want it to be like that."

"How do you want it to be?" She hated doing this to him. Sara knew he had expected and would have preferred they silently move to the next level of their relationship, but she couldn't go into this blind now. In seven months, there would be three of them, and she had a responsibility to her child to at least know where she stood with its father. They couldn't play it by ear anymore.

"I don't understand, Sara. I want you to be with me. I love you."

"I know that," she said gently. "I love you, too. But I need to know…what your intentions are."

"Excuse me?" He was staring at her as if she were speaking another language. "Intentions?"

"What do you want out of this? Where do you expect this to go?"

"Go? I don't understand," he said. "Do we need to decide this now?"

"Well, we need to soon," she sighed. "I'm pregnant."

"What?"

"Almost eleven weeks."

His fingers gripped the armrest, knuckles white. "You've known all this time?"

"I've only known for two weeks. I found out right around the time you informed me I was suffocating you." There was bite to her words. She couldn't help it. It still hurt.

"I never said that," he protested.

"You implied it."

"I never implied it. I was discussing a case," Grissom argued.

"Well, maybe that's why I need to know where we stand," Sara said simply. "You're so cryptic, usually. How am I supposed to know what applies to me when you speak in puzzles."

"I told you I loved you. Jesus," he wheezed. He rubbed his temples and then turned to face her suddenly. "Are you alright? You and the baby, I mean."

She nodded. "Looks like it." It was hard not to feel sorry for him. The currently frazzled man had been so secure in his relationship with her that morning. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

"I understand," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

They drove in silence for miles and Sara's cool demeanor gradually eroded until it matched Grissom's. Her palms were sweaty on the steering wheel and her breathing was shallow. She wasn't mad that he was far from ecstatic. His reaction was similar to hers and she knew he was more scared than unhappy. She was scared, too. Everything about her background told her that she was completely unprepared for it all.

"Sara?"

She cleared her throat. "Yes?"

"I think I know what we are."

"What's that?"

"Parents."

THE END


End file.
